By the time you sixteen
You know there is
Something seriously
Gone wrong with me.
Throw me out?
No you cannot.
Motherhood is not what they say
Still, it is all you possess.
So you pray and pray.
A prayer for me:
So that I don't often see
Floats of blue bubbles on the sky.
Or, the dragonfly,
Only friend of mine,
Do not disturb me at night
And entice me to fly.
Night is a time
I could fly:
Soft flakes of dark white
Around my eyes.
Your warm hands of morning
Always bring me down
Only to find, I have become a boy
Whom others call a blind.
An essay on domestic quarrel
See the burning air outside the window,
The reverse swing of a pendulum,
The undulating bows those bear burning birds
See the reflection of your perverse pleasure
At the culling of pregnant clouds
That pleasure is bright on your grate
Where balmy flickers of jungle fire
Is quivering like your soul.
See, what happens when a girl like you
Wraths on a man like me, alone, and defaulter.
A pair of feet
Just now this ancient walkway
Carried those light feet away
Not knowing who she was,
You know, sadness can open
Some abrupt tiers, sub conscious.
It can open your heart, beside
The yellow growth of satanic nicotine.
A pair of petering feet can open many dreams
(Mother for a last time saying "don't go!")
Or
(A casual afire tastes sad in an after taught)
The cold stone of the walkway don't know
Nightmares, it is born under a cold star.
A plot of loneliness
Come near, mischief; play with the air of emptiness
Play with the little kitten that should have been upon this mattress
Kiss at the forehead that would have alighted with bliss
Have a drink from an nonexistent cupboard
Warm your legs by cold logs of barrenwood
Nobody, if nobody comes I'll play alone
With a jigsaw puzzle spread on atmosphere
To complete a house that never was there.
The room within
Have you ever seen the room within!
Amid each and every door
Another opening is there, I can feel.
Within this very floor
Which the ancient lift reaches every now often,
There is another floor, there is.
Brick within brick, structure within structure.
An existence in the cloak of another.
Through it passes the sun
Shadow, there is none
Smoke and smog cannot outline it.
Soul in a soul, brick within brick.
Crawl, float, swim, walk or aviate
This moment I am there, and whoosh- I am not
I know, I am this room; amid, within.
Fire grasps the mall
Fire grasps the mall
A building in the hell.
Two stupid eyes were burnt
Bell ringing fighters, fire in their fatigue
All such incendiary ideas fly
Evaporated was the rebellion.
Flaming bodies were counting their births
How many more till the end of the paths!
All such incendiary ideas cry
Waters of sacred eyes
Had you known this,
You won't have set on
The slow ticking bomb.
An interpretation of history
Your feminine logic made me crying
Eyeing the water you told me again
"Don't you dare go any near
To any shattering war."
Bemused sun fell on the dirt
Like a loose and amateur pasta sauce .
Am I so far from a war?
May be but you should study our good ol' tree
Standing yonder, which has seen
Passes of life and sin
Anyway, the wood was a lousy teacher
Who have learned better than to become
An eloquent speaker.
There I went into fire, upon the bad road,
War was only a speech, interrupted
Shattering peace somehow managed
To go more than any civilization ever can
Less eloquent,with all it's logic so feminine.
Drift
The Beachwood was the last of our merry round
When whim alight, we spent a night
On our salt, deep deep salt and salty salty ground.
Last of our poison, till the death dropped
We drunk and made each other drink
We gnawed and bit
And, there came a time when sun stopped.
Love passed; fight passed and hate passed, too
Now that we have mastered the fine art of looking beyond.
No comments:
Post a Comment